Steve Coogan’s Alan Partridge problem

Is Steve Coogan a one trick pony? It's a question that has dogged the Mancunian actor's career ever since his preening Partridge flapped into the nation's affections over thirty years ago. Since then, with a couple of notable exceptions (his turn as Stan Laurel was a triumph), Coogan's projects have been little more than variations on a theme but without the genius of the source material. No matter how hard the actor tries to shake off his past with glossy Hollywood fodder, his polyester-pullovered alter-ego is never far from the surface. 

It's not just Coogan's diffident northern twang or the shifty owl-like eyes, it's the whole essence of the man – Hollywood can doll him up in Armani suits and capped teeth as much as they like but they can never take the Partridge out of Coogan. Which is why so many of his characters from Saxondale to his portrayal of Paul Raymond have that whiff of Pear Tree Productions about them. Coogan has admitted himself that Partidge is essentially him without filters. And herein lies the problem for an actor still desperate to be taken seriously. Coogan's problem – and in many ways it is unique to him – is that he is a leading man trapped inside a character's body, a character that is so close to the performer's own persona that the two are barely distinguishable. Partridge may be an unfiltered, slightly cartoonish version of the actor but the line between him and his alter ego has become increasingly blurred. 

Other more traditional leading men such as Tom Cruise can get away with playing 'themselves' because all they really have to do is serve the script. Leading men are little more than shallow foils for the more interesting character actors busily giving the narrative depth; Alan meanwhile is the centre of his mad universe. Daniel Craig's Bond is essentially a hunky escape artist no matter how much back-story the studios throw at him. In truth we don’t care about Bond's battles with booze or his dysfunctional childhood because that's not what we are paying to see. 

Filmmakers have an unwritten contract with their audience when it comes to leading men: give audiences what they expect. But what do we expect from Mr Coogan? Well, it's become increasingly obvious that all we really want is the old unreconstructed Partridge back, the one trapped for all time inside the hell of his 'grief hole' otherwise known as a Linton travel tavern. The tragic, self deluded Alan of the late 90s perfectly encapsulates the absurd pomposities inherent in all of us. He is a character that has become so much more than a mere comedy vehicle. Partridge is Coogan made flesh in all his flawed idiocy and we respect Coogan for his generosity in allowing us to gawp in horror at our own tragedy. Stray from the tragic 90s Alan, however, and audiences will feel short changed as happened with the Alpha Papa movie and more recently the smugly unfunny This Time. 

Throughout his career Coogan has battled with what to do about his Alan-shaped millstone. He knows that our love for the classic Alan can never be satiated as long as his creator continues to work. Hence the endless, largely unsuccessful reinventions; the latest will see Alan take on the mantle of a motivational speaker. Let's wait and see how that pans out but I fear it may be little more than Coogan humouring us before the next earnest project comes along. It was a clever move on his part to name his 2009 tour 'Alan Partridge and other less successful characters' but was this witty self-depracation or a cynical dig at his obsessive fans? 

I for one will never be able to see Coogan as anything but a Toblerone-loving loser. Watching Coogan's turn as a smarmy producer in Chivalry I kept wondering why the Partridge I loved had become so bland and apologetic. Why wasn’t he telling those 'ruddy' Hollywood types to 'sod off'? I had to keep reminding myself that this was the weedy, inauthentic Coogan atoning for authentic Coogan’s problematic past. 

Chivalry is supposed to be a nuanced satire on post MeToo Hollywood but Coogan's own progressive politics means we already know what he really thinks, hence his character Cameron is desperate to be seen to be on the 'right side of history' by burying himself in a MeToo quagmire of confused self-loathing.

A flawed, unfiltered Coogan is surely more interesting than a desperate-to-be-virtuous Partridge, which is what are presented with in Chivalry. We don’t want to see the actor apologising for his past indescretions with groupies and hookers. What we want and expect is the madly inappropriate lady-boy lover unencumbered by progressive idealism.